Not Knowing: What Young Didn't Know
by Ellynne
Summary: Young didn't know how Rush would react. Or what the man who called himself Rush could do with a knife.
1. Chapter 1

_I don't own Once Upon a Time or Stargate Universe._

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Eli had come to Young after his last transfer with Telford. He said he'd been having nightmares, nightmares he was convinced were really memories of Telford's – and that, if true, meant Telford was working for the Lucian alliance.

Young had believed it at once. So many things slid into place, from the attack on Icarus to Telford's meeting with Young's wife.

And the dead. _All_ the dead from the time Telford was undercover.

The Goa'uld had been able to brainwash people, to turn a loyal man against his own. With the destruction of the Goa'uld's empire, the Lucians had gotten their hands on every bit of Goa'uld tech they could find.

But, Eli was also Rush's man.

Oh, not completely. For one thing, Eli was still more boy than man. He had a naiveté that made him useless for some of Rush's more Machiavellian schemes. But, he respected the scientist, wanted to learn from him – and he had a wariness of the military side of the ship.

Coming to Young, accusing Telford, it might all be part of one of Rush's plots. Eli could be his accomplice or his pawn.

And, Young thought, Rush could just as easily be working for the Lucians as Telford – they might even _both_ be working for them.

So, he'd let Eli go with some heroic plans of ferretting out the Lucians' plan, while quietly warning Stargate Command.

Only, Eli had been captured. Young could have rescued him in a minute, sending back Telford in his place.

But he needed to know what Telford knew.

And he thought he could break the Lucians' hold on his friend.

It had worked.

But not before the Lucians had found their own way onto _Destiny_.

Later, he would learn the story, how Eli failed to give certain code words, how he was captured, how he was tortured into helping.

Later, he would learn the true story, that Eli had only pretended to help them – till his attempt to discredit the only Lucian scientist with a clue had nearly resulted in the man's murder (Eli had thrown himself at the killer trying to garrote the man, something that would have gotten him killed if the Lucian commander hadn't been satisfied. She knew Eli's limits and she had learned his weak point. You didn't threaten Eli, you threatened the person standing next to him).

Young had managed to keep Rush out of most of it. Rush claimed to have been frustrated lately in his efforts to get more control of the ship. He'd been concentrating on more prosaic repairs, opening up new parts of _Destiny_, increasing the hydroponics – and not just hydroponics, since Rush said there was no reason not to use dirt if it had been properly treated to kill foreign organisms. Boxed gardens had shown up all over the ship. He'd even started a fishery in some tanks he'd found in one of the newly opened areas.

But, he'd come running when the attack started.

Young, who had already begun to suspect Rush had gotten further with the ship's controls and codes than he'd let on – this was _Rush_; why else would he move on to fish farming? – figured that was confirmation enough.

The Lucians had brought through 150 men and women, along with crates of supplies.

But, at the end of the transfer, Eli said, things had gone wrong for the Lucians. Ships from Stargate Command had shown up. There'd been an attack. The gate had destabilized. Eli was pretty certain the Lucians' gate had suffered the same fate as Icarus.

Which wasn't actually a good thing. It meant Young had an enemy who outnumbered them, were heavily armed – and had no route of retreat, even if _Destiny_'s crew could drive them off. The Lucians had no choice but to win or die.

And Stargate Command couldn't send him any reinforcements.

Then, he found out they had TJ.

And Belle, the assistant Rush about as peremptorily as Spain had claimed any piece of land Columbus set foot on and with about as little regard for the opinions of people already living there.

But, to his surprise, Rush not only noticed when Belle was captured, he was upset.

And he remembered her name. That wasn't really a surprise. Orders always come across as more effective when you can use a name.

But, Rush seemed to swallow it when he told him _to get out of the way._

By the time he realized he was wrong, the man was gone. Young held onto the hope he'd found a very good place to hide the fight was over – and that he hadn't decided to cut his losses and try to join the enemy – or that they'd kill him if he tried.

Other than that, all Young could do, then, was try to secure their position and wait for the Lucians' next move.

A move that didn't come.

Telford, looking battle shocked, had finally come stumbling down the corridors (the Lucians had tortured him while Eli was in his body, but his unsteadiness seemed more like shell shock right then). The Lucians, he said, were defeated.

Young had proceeded with caution – if Telford was still with the Lucians, this would be a pretty good way to lure Young into an ambush – but he'd realized pretty quickly it wasn't.

The bodies were everywhere.

Lucian soldiers who'd all been killed at their posts. All of them had knife wounds.

There were survivors, all locked in rooms or side corridors – ones the technology that had gotten them out of the gate room seemed useless to open.

Telford told him later what had happened. How he'd been able to lure off the Lucian commander, Kiva, in hopes of getting rid of her. It had almost worked, too, except that she'd realized at the last moment Telford wasn't under her control. He wasn't sure which one of them would have won that little quick draw contest, but the game had been called off on account of Kiva's very sudden death.

She'd been stabbed in the back, Telford said.

And, when she fell, Rush was the one standing there holding the bloody knife.

When he followed Rush out, he had to step over the guards Kiva had left at the door.

They'd reached the infirmary where the captured crew members were. Telford got past the guards, claiming to have captured Rush and to have been sent on ahead by Kiva.

Unfortunately, they walked in on a power play between Dannic, Kiva's personal executioner, and Varro, ostensibly the next in command – but the Lucian chain of command could be more fluid than Stargate's, especially when you killed off your rivals.

Dannic was in favor of killing off hostages. Varro was in favor of waiting for Kiva to actually order it.

Dannic had pulled his gun and aimed it at Von Spelker.

Not Rush.

Because Young could have understood what happened next if it had been Rush.

Not _believed_ it. Because it wasn't believable, any more than the bodies lying all over the ship were believable.

But he could have understood it.

Rush had simply _moved._

He'd given Telford his knife when he'd been his 'prisoner.' Telford said he didn't even notice when Rush grabbed it back. He didn't even notice when Rush came at Dannic, not really.

Nothing registered till Dannic was lying in front of him, his guts spilling out of the gaping hole Rush had opened in him.

Two more soldiers went down. Their deaths, Telford said, had been quicker and tidier (Young could see as much for himself when he found the bodies).

Then, Rush was standing behind Varro, his knife at the man's throat, advising him to surrender. When Varro hesitated, Rush informed him, very calmly, how many of his people were already dead and how many were captured (or, as it turned out, locked in rooms they couldn't get out of). He was able to give their positions and describe who had been at each location.

"You're the only ones left," he told Varro. "I don't care if you die or not. But, I'm giving you the choice. Because you tried to protect someone I care about. But I don't care about you. And I tend to forget gratitude really fast when people start annoying me."

And that was it. Varro surrendered. Game over.

Then, when all the Lucians left were disarmed and restrained, Rush had promptly had the blood drain out of his face and collapsed.


	2. Listening

The questioning went as Rumplestiltskin expected.

He listened, of course, while Lieutenant Johansen diagnosed his symptoms – and very easy to manufacture symptoms they were, too. Cold skin, thready pulse, danger signs of shock. Before long, she was seeing just what she was supposed to see, a physically exhausted man who had been pushed to the edge of death.

But was now stabilizing, thank you.

He'd been able to whisper a quick warning to Belle before collapsing at the best possible moment.

It also put him in the best possible position to be close the lieutenant as she went into labor.

She hadn't been the only one to react as if he were a monster when he finally made his way into the infirmary. He'd been covered with blood by then – it was an inevitable side effect of fighting with a knife and there were too many experienced soldiers onboard for him to even think about wiping it away.

He told himself it was amusing the way the Lucian, Varro, had actually tried to _protect _the lieutenant from him.

He'd glanced at her, of course, assured himself she was all right – if the Lucians had taken to murdering expectant mothers, he might have killed them off after all – but Belle had been the one he was looking for.

She was alive, alive and unharmed.

She'd even managed to slip a few sharp edged tools – scalpels and medical knives – to the trained soldiers among the hostages. If he hadn't shown up, they might still have been able to save themselves.

Or died trying.

There were times when Belle's courage and planning terrified him.

And he was glad to be nearby as she dealt with the lieutenant finally admitting she was in labor.

The lieutenant had no idea how lucky she was. Most of Belle's medical experience had to do with soldiers wounded in battle, but she'd seen her share of births – certainly more than the lieutenant ever had. Beyond that, she'd learned midwifery with an absolute minimum of what the lieutenant would consider proper tools and medicines.

Even when they finally did use the stones to bring in a qualified doctor, he mostly sat on the sidelines and kept out of Belle's way, although they discussed medicine and births while Belle worked.

And Rumplestiltskin, the only person in the room who had been involved in more births than Belle – and who could have done a great deal more than either Belle or the doctor if things had taken a bad turn – was also content to sit on the sidelines and listen.

Meanwhile, Young was asking questions – and getting the answers Rumplestiltskin had meant him to.

Rumplestiltskin had started with the assumption that, sooner or later, he might have to do something . . . unusual – something unusual with _witnesses._

No matter what anyone told you, killing off people who noticed something strange was going on was rarely a good idea. For one thing, it lacked style. Completely.

For another, missing people – and the occasional found corpse – could attract just as much attention, usually the wrong kind of attention.

Usually.

So, something more subtle would be needed.

Eli was the first to remember one or two things he'd told the boy about the chair, the interface the Ancients had left for their ship and its prodigious database, things suggesting "Rush" had managed to use it before without the safeguards they'd tried to put in place – things that suggested the good doctor might be afraid of something other than having his brain reduced to red ooze dripping out his ears if he used it again.

Chloe was the first one to remember more specific things, things suggesting the ship might be able to influence someone who used the chair without protection and who asked certain, broadly phrased questions. For example, if you asked how to save the ship and crew, you might find yourself turning into a mad killing machine – who saved the ship and crew, but nearly died in the process.

Wray was the one who realized Rush had been avoiding the stones that allowed them to visit Earth – or trade minds with someone already there. She'd put it down to his workaholic tendencies, passing on his turn because he was wrapped up in some project. Now, she wondered . . . .

By the time Young first got to Belle, the baby had been born. He thought she'd be free.

The man didn't understand about the difficulties of waiting for the afterbirth, especially without the aid of medicines that helped speed the contractions expelling it from the body – although he got an earful about it when he tried to interrupt Belle while she was waiting for it.

The second time, Belle was exhausted – too tired, Rumplestiltskin thought, to lie. Not that Belle ever lied if she could help it – and, when she was forced into dishonesty (she could face torture and a witch queen's interrogation and calmly claim ignorance day after day without breaking), she kept it simple and direct.

Unlike Rumplestiltskin, who _never_ lied but who could spin truths, and half-truths, and unrelated statements into whatever shape he wanted.

But, Belle didn't need to lie. Yes, she'd thought Rum (everyone on the ship knew she called him Rum, though Rumplestiltskin thought Young might finally be waking up to the fact it was a sign of affection) was avoiding the chair and the room it was in. Yes, she'd noticed about the stones. Yes, she thought she knew why. Because, Rum had told her he didn't like something else driving around his body.

Young asked more questions, but it was clear he'd seen the pattern he was meant to. He would, with a little work, accept that Rush wasn't dangerous – or not any more dangerous than he'd thought.

Rumplestiltskin confirmed that for him himself the next day.

Ideally, he should have let several days go by, enough time that people would be wondering if he ever _would_ regain consciousness.

Comatose people, after all, weren't threats.

But, Belle stayed by his bedside the whole time. He didn't dare talk to her or signal her – Eli had decided this was historically significant stuff and always had at least one kino in the room recording.

Of course, it was possible the boy had wondered about someone being afraid of Rush – enough to kill him – and this was his way of trying to prevent it, so Rumplestiltskin managed not to hold it against him.

As it was, the sooner he was well enough to go back to his own quarters, the better.

So, he allowed Young's interrogation. He made sure he was very groggy and exhausted. He did not remember things clearly. He expressed incredulity at the things Young was saying he did – just the right note of incredulity, obviously trying to figure out why Young was telling tall tales while also considering that _maybe_ Young believed what he was saying – in which case, who was fooling Young and what really happened?

But, yes, he admitted to avoiding the chair.

"Because, something happened during the Nakai attack," he said. "We'd lost Perry when her link was broken. Interfacing with the ship was the only option . . . . I remember what happened during the attack, but . . . Nicholas Rush wasn't the person in charge. Not completely. I knew things I shouldn't have known. I made decisions that weren't _mine_. Or . . . that's how it seemed after."

"But, you didn't tell this to anyone," Young said.

"Tell what? The chair's dangerous? We knew that. The chair can mess up the brain of anyone using it? We knew that too. Despite the dangers, the chair can provide solutions at the price of almost killing the user? We established that at the beginning. Just . . . don't ask me to use it again."

A wonderfully double edged comment, Rumplestiltskin thought. Yes, assure Young there was nothing that terrified him more than using the one tool that might make him a threat to Young – beg Young not to make him use it again.

But, at the same time . . . born and bred in a briar patch.

If your enemies are likely to attack you anyway, try to make sure they have completely wrong ideas about what frightens you.

Of course, he made a point of still seeming so weak he could barely stand as he made his way back to his room. He would spend the next several days acting like a recovering invalid, one who couldn't – not wouldn't, _couldn't _– harm a fly.

But, it was a relief to finally close the door and be alone with the one person he didn't have to lie to.

He held Belle and stroked her hair and apologized for worrying her while he'd had to lie there, pretending to be nearly dead, and she'd assured him that she'd known he was all right and had never been worried – and proved again that she wasn't nearly as good at lying as he was.

But later, much later, when they were lying in their bed, he told her the truth he would never have admitted to Young, what really frightened him – in some ways, he admitted, even more than knowing Belle was in danger.

"I killed them," he told her. "Dozens of them. More than half their whole force.

"I've killed like that before. From the beginning. When Hordor and his men tried to take my son. When I ended the war in your homeland . . . you know what I did to make the Ogres go away.

"I never _cared_. Not like this. Even when we fought Regina. Some of her men were still human. I remember regretting that they had to die – when she killed Graham, I remember wishing I'd realized how much she knew about what was happening to him, wished I'd warned him to keep his mouth shut, even wished I'd saved him. Then, I shrugged and went back to work.

"But, the Lucians, I can still see them. For their commander, Kiva, torture was just a way to get the job done – she'd have killed Eli in a heartbeat if he hadn't been useful – or hadn't been useful enough. She also had a pathetic need to please her father who never thought she was good enough. In some ways, she was nothing but a stupid, frightened child. She'd gotten herself lost on the other side of the universe to try and prove herself to him. And I drove a knife through her throat.

"I came within a hairsbreadth of killing Varro. He'd already stood up to that lunatic, Dannic, for you. And I was ready to kill him when he got between me and you. If he hadn't agreed to surrender, I would have killed him. Because, it was more important to end it quickly.

"Even Dannic. He was a mad dog, a killer who couldn't feel anything for the people he killed. I know exactly what that's like . . . ."

"You're not like that anymore," Belle said. "Even back then, you were never like Dannic. He would have killed a woman who loved him if it threatened his power. Then, he would have dumped her corpse on Regina's front steps. He wouldn't have made a deal to save my kingdom. He would have sided with the Ogres in return for his pick of the prisoners. Or maybe he would have killed both sides for fun. You were never like him."

"Wasn't I? Lieutenant Johansen was more terrified of me than she was of the Lucians."

"Rum, you came charging in like a madman covered in blood and gore. She'd had guns pointed at her, didn't know which of her friends were still alive – or which ones would be alive by the end of the day – and she was in labor. Of course, she panicked."

That put his mind on another track, a less painful one than the men and women he'd killed. "It's a good thing for her you had experience as a midwife." A good thing for her Belle had been there and that he'd been determined to save Belle.

"Not enough experience. I would love to have the kind of tools and medicine TJ used to take for granted. And there are still complications that might set in . . . ." He could see Belle mentally inventorying all the potential hazards yet to come. "Do you think she'll be all right?"

"She'll be fine. Trust me, I have plenty of experience in these things."

Belle had grinned. "Be careful, I might think you're falling back into your old ways. You don't have any kind of _deal_ with TJ, do you?"

Rumplestiltskin laughed. It was forced (he wouldn't lie to Belle by hiding the pain he still felt), but the laugh itself was real. "I promised to give that up, Belle."

"Unless you had a really good reason."

"And, even then, I promised to tell you."

"_Unless_ you had a really good reason."

"Well, I don't have one. Except annoying the colonel. _That_ might be worth it, but I suppose we'd have to leave the ship. Unless I could convince TJ aliens had taken the baby or something . . . . Hmm, how about it, fair princess? What would you give the evil beast for a child of your own?"

Belle kissed him, long and hard. "I thought we were already working on that. Or are you trying to tell me no one ever told you how these things _start?_"

His laugh this time was real and almost completely free of pain. "Now that you mention it . . . . Poor TJ. I guess I won't take her daughter off her hands after all. She'll just have to cope."

"Hmm, she may not have to cope alone."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, I should probably let her tell you, but I think you might need to prepare yourself for the shock. She said she was going to ask you to be the godfather."

"She _what?_"

"Really. She wants you to be her baby's godfather. Oh, and she's thinking of giving her the middle name of Nichole."

"No, not Nichole. Something . . . something that starts with R, if she insists. But, _not_ Nichole . . . . You're joking, aren't you?"

"No, not unless she changes her mind. Rumplestiltskin: godfather. Are you up to the task? What exactly do godfathers do in this world, anyway?"

"Officially? Their duties are to see the child is raised in the parents' faith if something happens to the mother and father. There's also an obligation to send a christening gift and a gift at first communion. If the parents attend a church with christenings and first communions. Not all of them do . . . . And I suppose I'm obligated to send her daughter to the ball even if her mother thinks she should stay home and sit in the ashes, although I can set the curfew as unreasonably early as I like. Unofficially, if we can't get the crew home and if anything happens to the lieutenant, I suppose I'm obligated to take care of her. Don't worry," he added. "I promise to do everything I can to keep Lieutenant Johansen alive and well. This baby is likely to have enough problems without me raising her. Are you _sure_ she said that?"

"Positive."

"Rumplestiltskin: godfather. I think the sky may be falling."

Belle laughed and drew closer to him. The conversation drifted to other subjects.

Eli, watching the footage, replayed it again.

Young had wanted him to see whether or not Rush still acted like an invalid once the door was closed. Eli, rolling his eyes at the paranoia, had agreed just to prove a point.

Except Young had been right.

And, whoever Rush was, he wasn't Rush.

Eli had read some of the reports about Ancients. Some of them had names he recognized: Morgan le Fey, Merlin.

_Rumplestiltskin._

He looked at the footage again, wondering what he would tell Young.


	3. Choosing to Act

Simeon had meant to wait for a better moment. He'd hoped to be able to get away from his guards and sneak into Ginn's room, kill her, and be gone from this cursed ship before anyone realized he was the murderer.

But, time had been running out. If he was to stop her from ruining everything, he had to kill her _now_.

He'd managed to palm the knife and keep it hidden. When he saw Ginn – or the Tau'ri scientist in Ginn's body – in the cafeteria, he knew he had to act.

He waited till Rush had finished talking to her. The man was small and inconsequential looking, yet there was something unnerving about him. Oh, Simeon reminded himself, Rush _hadn't_ been the one who killed all those other soldiers – it had been something out of the ship itself using Rush as its puppet – but that didn't mean Simeon shouldn't be cautious.

He wondered what they were talking about. Rush was sitting at the edge of the table, looking down at Ginn – _Perry_ – in her chair. The man had a small, tight smirk on his face. Perry, on the other hand, seemed to shrink inside of herself, growing smaller and smaller. When Rush finished and, still smiling, walked off, she looked ready to weep.

Good, Simeon thought. He'd be putting one person out of her misery.

He was able to make a path that made it look as if he was just making his way to the food. He pretended to stumble as he passed Perry (_out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the woman who always seemed to be around Rush, whatever her name was, a look of concern on her face as she walked towards Perry. At the same time, he noticed Rush turn and look at them, first Perry, then Simeon, a puzzled look on his face, like a man who has heard an odd noise in the night and wonders what is wrong_). The knife slid from his sleeve into his hand. He aimed for the lung –

A force hit him, throwing him across the room.

X

Amanda listened as Rush explained why she was dreaming if she thought there could be anything between them. He may have taken _pity_ on her that one night – and a lot of trouble _that_ had caused – but it wasn't something he meant to make a habit of. She wasn't _worth_ it.

But, there were plenty of other men on the ship. He sure she could find at least _one_ who'd take her up on what she was so freely offering.

He'd said it in that way he had, as though he had no idea how his words cut, as though he were actually trying to be reasonable and kind, as though he really were putting her down easy.

Except, she saw the light in his eyes as he watched her. She knew he was enjoying this.

He had been different ever since she came.

She'd come for _him_. The problems – the danger – of what had happened last time, when she'd found herself trapped inside her own head, alone in the dark – she'd convinced herself that was just a fluke, a bizarre piece of trouble that wouldn't repeat itself.

She'd told herself that over and over again till she believed it, till she had her chance to see _him._

And he had ignored her from the start.

Oh, not _ignored_ her. He treated her politely. He asked her opinions. He gave her things to work on and listened to her input.

All the while, barely hiding his yawns as he pretended to be interested – or as he said something in that casual, razor edged way of his, as if he never noticed his words were drawing blood.

And she saw him with Belle.

Mrs. Gold had somehow become his assistant, always underfoot.

His eyes lit up whenever he saw her.

He was always touching her. Not in a sexual way, but casually, constantly. He took her hand, he brushed her arm, he did a thousand simple things that might have meant nothing if they'd come from anyone else but, from Rush, she knew they meant so much more.

And he never laid a hand on Mandy. He never came near her or even _looked_ at her if he could help it. When he did, when he looked up from a screen or a set of calculations, he gave her the same, disinterested look he gave any other inanimate object.

No, that wasn't true, she'd seen him give pretty intense looks to some inanimate objects, especially if they had equations on them.

She had felt something inside her slowly withering away. Till she'd gotten up her courage and asked him what had happened, what had changed?

Now, she sat there after he walked off, crushed inside herself, wishing her job was over (Rush hadn't even needed her, not really, Young had been the one who wanted someone to double check Rush's work and provide alternatives).

_I wish I could die, _she thought.

Then, she felt something cold push inside of her.

It was pulled out. Something hot and wet ran down her back.

She put her hand to the damp place almost curiously. She brought it back and saw the red liquid spread across her hand.

Blood.

She was bleeding.

She looked up and saw the Lucian, Simeon, smiling at her the moment before he was thrown across the room.

**X**

Rumplestiltskin felt the prickle of _something_ about to happen. He turned toward the source and saw Amanda Perry quietly getting ready to sob into her rations. He saw Belle walking towards her and cursed himself silently. Belle had been all right with some of his little revenges on the scientist – she remembered what the woman had done to her, after all – but she had warned him against going too far (not that telling a woman he _wasn't_ interested counted as too far in his mind – but Belle might object to _how_ he'd done it) – and saw Simeon smiling, saw the blood on Perry's back, the matching blood on the knife hidden in Simeon's hand.

And Belle, oblivious, walking towards both of them.

Instinctively, Rumplestiltskin raised his hand. He reached out for the energy in _Destiny_, felt it flow through him as magic, and threw Simeon across the room towards a cluster of Young's soldiers.

Perry looked faintly surprised. She'd reached for her back, touching the spot where Simeon had stabbed her, then brought her hand where she could see the blood on her fingers.

"Lie down," Belle said, already pulling off her shirt and pressing the fabric against the wound. She looked over and spotted Riley standing nearby. "Get TJ," she ordered him. "Now!"

But, Rumplestiltskin, silently cursing as he shoved everyone out of his way, was already by her side. Belle, he assured himself, was unhurt. Simeon hadn't touched her.

"Rum –" She didn't say it, asking with her eyes.

Rumplestiltskin doubted TJ would be here in time or if this injury was even something she could cope with, not with the medical supplies they didn't have on this ship. The lung was filling with blood. It would literally drown her, left untreated.

He tried to remember if the man he'd once been before the curse would have tried to save her, despite what she'd done. Maybe. He wasn't sure. He wasn't even sure if Bae would tell him to save her, not at the price this was going to cause.

He'd sent Simeon flying in a crowded room but he knew how these things worked. If people even remembered seeing him lift his hand, they wouldn't associate it with what had happened. There was already a fair amount of chaos, people didn't know why Dr. Perry was lying on the floor or what had happened to her – and unsure if it was about to happen to them.

So, in all this chaos, a man had lifted his hand. He'd been on the other side of the room. There was no connection between what he'd done and what sent Simeon flying.

This would be different.

But Belle wanted him to do it. Belle, who saw a better man when she looked at him than he ever did, _expected_ him to do it.

He reached out, the energy gathering around his hand, purple and gold. He poured it into the wound.

Closing it was easy enough, just a matter of knitting torn flesh back together. The blood already in the lung was trickier, but he eased it into her veins, letting it melt through skin and bone, back where it belonged.

Then, he stood up and faced Simeon and found himself shaking with anger. The man had stabbed Perry, but he had been inches from Belle when he did it.

X

Something threw Simeon across the cafeteria. Greer had been talking with his friends when the man came flying into them. Greer didn't know what was behind it, but it was clear a fight was going on – and they had orders about Simeon when it came to that.

Then, he looked at Simeon's hand, saw the flash of metal, saw the _blood._

"He's got a knife!" he said as he grabbed him, pinning Simeon's arms behind him, wishing he'd brought more weapons to lunch – wishing he'd brought _handcuffs_. "Help me hold him!"

Greer looked across the room, looking for the person Simeon had stabbed.

Ginn – Dr. Perry – was lying down on the floor. Belle Gold had pulled off her shirt and was using it to staunch the blood.

Rush was already pushing people out of his way, speeding to her side. Greer wouldn't have had a chance to take one step in the time it took Rush to cross half the cafeteria. The man looked at Belle first. Greer saw him relax slightly when he saw she wasn't wounded.

Then, he turned his attention to Perry.

He was irritated.

Typical Rush. Who else looked at a woman dying in front of him and was _irritated? _What, was he afraid she was going to bleed on his salad? Greer thought Rush might just walk away in disgust at the mess Perry was making.

But, Belle gripped his arm as she got out of his way (_why? Belle was the one who helped out in the infirmary, not Rush. Some people said, when it came to emergency first aid, she was better than TJ. The only things Rush was good at saving were as heartless as he was_).

Rush looked at the wound, and –

Greer stared, not sure what he was seeing.

Everyone in the room stared.

A mist seemed to spread off Rush's hand, a purple cloud. Gold sparkled inside it. It poured off of his hand, onto Perry.

Then, the mist simply faded away.

Rush stood up, his face murderous. He looked at Simeon, the purple mist beginning to form around his hand again.

"_No_," Belle said. She reached up and grabbed the glowing arm. "Rum, _no._"

He reached for her hand, gripping it tight. The purple mist dissipated.

But, he still looked like he wanted to murder Simeon.

"I'm all right," Belle said. "He didn't touch me. Amanda's all right, too. So don't."

That was when Colonel Young came in, TJ racing along beside him, an emergency kit hung over her shoulder. "All right," Young said. "What's going on?"

There was a long silence. No one was stepping into that one.

Except one.

Rush laughed. "Ah, I think I'm going to have to answer that, Colonel. My apologies ahead of time. I doubt you'll like the answer."


	4. Explanations

**Note: This story assumes Belle reached **_**Destiny**_** more or less the way described in Hikari no Chibi's "Magic Beans and Destiny," by coming through the stargate after Gold had apparently died.**

Rush sat calmly, facing Young. Belle Gold stood behind Rush, her hand reassuringly – even protectively, Young thought, though Rush had certainly proved he didn't need much protection – on his shoulder. Rush reached up and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Telford was there, of course. Amanda Perry was also present, looking miserable but alive. TJ had checked her over and said she seemed fine but didn't believe her own diagnosis enough to walk away and leave her. Somehow, Eli had also been included. Young had thought about including a few guards but had to wonder if they would make a difference. Making a virtue of necessity, he opted for a sign of trust and did without.

"You want to explain what happened?" Young asked.

Rush shrugged. "There's not much to explain. Simeon attacked Dr. Perry and might have attacked others. I stopped him – perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. Then, I did what I could for Dr. Perry's injuries." His voice was light and amused.

"Then, maybe you'd like to explain the _way_ you did it," Young grated.

Rush gave a small smile, like a man admitting he made a bad joke and ready to be serious. "Of course, Colonel. Forgive me. To begin, I suppose you've realized I'm not Nicholas Rush?"

Young stared. "You're _what?_"

"Oh, you hadn't. No, I'm not Dr. Rush. This is his body, but . . . ."

"Gold," Young breathed, looking from Belle to Ru – to the man sitting in front of her. "Goa'uld."

The man – whoever he was – was amused. "No, not Goa'uld. But, you're right in the rest of your guess. My name is Mr. Gold, and Belle is my wife.

"I was killed shortly before Belle joined _Destiny_."

"You look unusually well for a dead man."

He shrugged. "You know Belle came from another universe. As do I. In our world, most of what you regard as science, we think of as magic – not the way the Goa'uld encouraged their slaves to think of it, as something incomprehensible and only accessible through the Goa'uld. We studied it and learned to use it, but our approach was . . . fundamentally different. Think of the difference between music and mathematics in your own world. One is largely what you call a right brain function and the other is left brain – yet music is highly mathematical. But, most of your people would say that seeing music only in terms of mathematics – _reducing_ it to mathematics – kills the heart of what makes it music.

"I'm not such a purist as that, but you need to understand the differences are profound.

"One of these differences is that we relied a great deal more on gifted individuals. I was one of these, a wizard, for lack of a better term.

"I took part in a war against another gifted individual, what you would call a witch. She killed me – I'm not speaking figuratively or metaphorically. She put a knife right through my heart. My heart stopped. I died."

Despite his apparent calm, he reached for Belle's hand again and swallowed before going on. She gripped his hand tightly. There had been a slight, mocking edge to his voice before, barely perceptible until it was gone. "My last thought was to protect Belle. I . . . created a protection and put . . . _everything_ I had left into it. Apparently," the mocking edge was back, "I put in more than I realized.

"When your ship was being sabotaged, when the Nakai were attacking, that's when I began to . . . wake up.

"At first, I only knew I _had_ to protect Belle. As the danger became more profound, I became more and more aware. But, my ability to act was limited. Until . . . ." He paused. That deadly seriousness settled over him again. "I won't say I didn't know what I was doing. My mind was awake enough by then that I _knew_. But, I also knew the only way to protect Belle was to do what I did. I entered Dr. Rush's mind.

"So, you may be right to think of me as a kind of Goa'uld. And to think that I made Dr. Rush my host. I can only say in my defense . . ." He looked at Amanda. His voice was very quiet, very calm. But, something in it, Young thought, was like the edge of a knife. "Dr. Perry, you were there when I made the transition. I think . . . you can probably recognize the exact moment it happened, now, can't you?"

The doctor, white lipped and pale, nodded.

"And, perhaps, you can recognize some of the things I did leading up to that moment?"

"Yes," she swallowed. "Yes, I can."

"Then, tell me, Doctor, can you think of anything else I could have done? Anything at all that would have protected her? I don't ask this lightly. I know . . ." the knife's edge sharpened, ". . . what you felt for Rush. I can imagine what hearing this is like for you. But, tell me, do you think I had a choice?"

Perry looked away from him as though it hurt just to meet his eyes, while Young caught up on what he was saying. Perry and . . . _Rush?_ But, he could see the pain in her face, could see some of it reflected in Belle's own eyes, empathy for what the other woman was feeling.

Of course, Young thought, if her husband's story was true, Belle would know what it was like have someone she loved die.

Even if the dead man was here, explaining how he got over it.

"No," Perry whispered. "There wasn't anything else. Not if you were going to . . . protect her."

Rush – _Gold_ nodded, though his eyes were still dark and haunted. "Thank you," he said, speaking so softly Young barely heard.

"You – you killed the Nakai," Eli blurted out.

He flushed as everyone turned to stare at him. "I – I – Look, no way did we blow up that ship. I mean, I saw what was going on. That was more than just getting lucky. And I saw Ru – Gol – _him _right before they took off." He looked at Gold. "You did something. I _know_ you did."

Gold met Eli's eyes. Young could almost see him calculating whether or not to give an honest answer. In the end, he gave a small, curt nod. "I . . . can make some things luckier. Or unluckier. Don't give me all the credit. That's all I was able to do during the fight. And send the Nakai a message."

Young's attention sharpened. _Typical_, he thought. That's just what Rush would do during a battle, try to butter up the aliens – probably try to sell them out to save his own skin.

Except, he reminded himself, this wasn't Rush.

"What message?"

"There were three, Colonel. The first one was, 'surrender.' It seemed . . . appropriate. Under the circumstances."

_Surrender_.

The message the Nakai had given them.

"The second one was, 'I don't want to kill you. '" He hesitated before adding the rest. "'Last warning. Give up and go.'"

"Cocky, weren't you?" Telford said.

Gold shrugged. "I thought, if I sounded sure of myself, they'd be more likely to believe I was. Then, I concentrated as much . . . bad luck on the one ship as I could.

"When it blew up, I sent the remaining ship the third message –"

"'You're next,'" Eli said. "That's what you said."

Gold shrugged. "And it worked."

"And it wasn't the chair, was it?" Telford said. "When you killed the Lucians, that was all you."

He sighed wearily. "Largely, yes. I told you about magic. For me, that's how I understand the functions of this ship. For me, its energy is magic – and I can draw on that. I was faster and stronger than they expected. They were . . . less lucky than they expected. And I had to save Belle."

Young's turn. "You said you poured what was left of you into a – a _protection_ around Belle. Are you really her husband or just a part of him?"

"Because my need to protect her seems a bit extreme? Perhaps it is, but I was like this before, I'm afraid. Before I . . . developed my abilities, my homeland was nearly destroyed in a war. _Children_ were being sent into battle – and most of them didn't last long.

"My son – I was married before Belle. My first wife, I lost her during that war. Our son was fourteen – _fourteen –_ and they were going to send him to the frontlines.

"I had to save him. I _had_ to. That's how I found my way to magic. Desperation is a powerful trigger. But, that . . . _need_, to protect those I love, has never really left me."

"And you didn't tell us this before because . . . .?"

"Oh, really, Colonel, would you have believed me without proof? And, now you have that proof, you're trying to decide how dangerous I am and what to do about me. That's why I didn't tell you. I don't want a fight. I don't want any unnecessary conflict. I want what you want, to hold this ship together, to make life better on it, to _find a way home_. I want –" a ragged edge crept into his voice. Real pain – or, Young thought cynically, a good imitation of it. "I want to be with my family and keep them safe. That's all.

"But, I can understand if my word's not enough for you, if you need time to think over what I've said.

"So, if you have no more questions . . . ?"

Gold got up. Together, he and Belle walked out of the room.


	5. Honesty

Groggily, Mandy opened her eyes.

She remembered pain, being hurt.

Blood.

She looked around her and saw the familiar walls of her own room. It was dark, but not the full dark of night. Early morning or late evening, she guessed.

There should be someone here with her, one of her nurses or assistants.

Well, the monitoring equipment was set up as usual. Alarms would sound if her heartbeat or breathing became too irregular – or if the equipment itself became disconnected or was interfered with in some way. It was safe enough.

Perhaps that Lucian girl, Ginn, just hadn't cared to have strangers all around her. If they didn't actually work for you, she supposed they might be uncomfortable to have hovering around all the time.

Still, she had her wonderfully wired up house and a computer with voice recognition software to interact with it.

"Wake up, Hal," she said, giving the command to turn it on.

She wondered what had happened back on _Destiny._ The body – the other body – must have been dying. They'd had to send her back.

Or had the attack somehow severed the link? She hadn't heard of anything like that happening. But, then again, how many people using the transfer stones had been stabbed in the back?

_Never again_, she told herself. There was nothing for her on _Destiny_, nothing at all. If she wanted to travel the stars, she could watch _Wormhole-X-Treme_ like everyone else.

She frowned. The computer still hadn't come up. "Wake up, Hal," Mandy said again, enunciating clearly.

"Oh, no, dearie," a soft voice whispered from behind her. "You won't need your toys for this."

Mandy felt the blood freeze in her veins. She couldn't even turn her head. But – that voice – it was – and wasn't – one she knew all too well.

A man walked casually around from the back of her chair.

He wore a tailored, silk suit, the sort Nick would never have bothered with even if he could afford it. And he wore it _well_. The few times Mandy had seen Nick forced into anything resembling formal wear, it wound up hanging all rumpled on him as if it _had_ been his usual, casual t-shirts and pull-overs.

She couldn't imagine wrinkles daring to touch this man's clothes, not if they valued their lives.

He smiled at her. It was the way Nick had smiled at her the last time they spoke, the amused, cruel smile of a cat that knows it has plenty of time to play with its mouse.

"Hello, Dr. Perry," he said. "I hope you don't mind. I thought it was time for you and me to have a little chat."

The monitors registered the increase in her breathing and heartbeat.

The man chuckled. "Lovely toys you have, my dear. But, inconvenient, don't you think? You must find it so difficult to lie when anyone standing by you can tell if your heart skips a beat. Oh, don't worry," he added. "You can panic all you want. No one's going to come no matter what alarms go off."

"Who – who are you?" Mandy asked. "How did you get here?"

"Oh, just think of me as a friend, the sort of person who just couldn't imagine anything more pleasant than a private, quiet, _uninterrupted_ little chat." He sat down across from her. There was something not quite right – not quite _human _– about his eyes. Fires seemed to lurk just beneath their dark, tranquil surface. He idly fiddled with his cane, its gold handle glinting in the twilight. Mandy found herself uncomfortably aware of the heavy metal and wood, of how she could do nothing to defend herself if he decided to strike her with it – or how easily he could kill her with a few blows. Whether he meant to or not, a hit in the right place could choke off her air – and he might not even know what he'd done.

Then, she looked at his eyes and revised that thought. If she died here, she doubted it would be by accident.

"Where to begin?" the man mused. "I suppose it would be polite to have a little small talk before getting down to business? I might ask how your day is going or perhaps some unimportant questions about your life – although, I suppose your entire life is unimportant, isn't it, Dr. Perry? You could be squelched out like a bug, and I wonder if the universe would even care? I assure you, I wouldn't.

"Let's see. Should I ask about your childhood? Tell me, Dr. Perry, was it difficult for you, going from being able to run and play to spending the rest of your life in that chair? Oh, you don't care for that question, either? Let me try again. Tell me, Dr. Perry, were you always such a self-centered, self-pitying little _monster –_" He gave the word a strange twist, as though _monster_ meant something far more to him than it did to her, "– or is it something you've managed to pick up since then?"

Mandy managed to keep her voice from shaking, though the monitors showed her fear. "I am not self-centered. Or self-pitying."

He laughed. "Oh, Dr. Perry, you're one of the most self-pitying people I've ever met. You don't care _what _you do to other people, how you use them, how you hurt them, so long as you get what you want in the end, do you? Because, after all, what does it matter what happens to them after what's already happened to you? That is how you justify it, isn't it?

"But, perhaps this isn't very good small talk. All right, then, third question. Tell me, _Amanda_," he stood up and came closer to her, the cane in his hands. He fingered the hard, gold handle speculatively. His voice, however, was mild and pleasant. "Do you know what it's like to have someone abuse you? To _use _you any way he wants?"

Amanda wished – harder than she had in years – for the power to run.

"What, no answer, dearie? Surely, it's not something you'd forget? Perhaps if you think back on your life. When you were a child, after your accident, all that time spent in hospitals. You were young and helpless. Your parents couldn't watch you every minute. The way hospitals are understaffed these days, it wasn't as if an attacker would risk much chance of discovery. One hears such awful stories.

"_Did_ anyone ever take advantage? Hurt you in some way you've never forgotten? Maybe hurt you again. And again. And again. Till you wished you could find some way to die to make it all end. Does that sound familiar?" He smiled benignly at her, the cane glinting in the dim light.

Then, his voice turned hard and cold. He leaned in close. She could feel his breath on her face. "I really do require an answer, dearie. Did anyone – ever – do that to you?"

She was crying. She blinked, trying to clear her vision. "No," she whispered. "Never."

"Ah," he pulled back. "How disappointing. I was hoping for a reason."

"A reason for what?"

"Why you're such a monster, my little abuser, why else?"

"I'm not –"

"Of course, you are. I was right there, remember? Or maybe you've forgotten? It doesn't matter _how_ you make a person helpless, tying her up, breaking bones in her neck so she can't move, using drugs, or some other way. It doesn't matter if she _doesn't remember_ what you did to her.

"Or if you_ planned_ for her not to remember, and that part just didn't work out.

"Because she did find out. Didn't she?

"Come, come, Amanda, isn't this ringing any _bells_ for you?"

"It wasn't – I didn't – she _agreed_ to the exchange –"

"Oh, and you asked her permission ahead of time, did you? Or you thought you had, but she must have misunderstood? Or did it just slip your mind? All an innocent misunderstanding? Sorry, dearie. I don't think it happened that way. And, if you think back, I believe you'll remember the FTL had one of its little fluctuations. You were sent back here, and Belle was sent back to her own body.

"And she objected.

"And you _knew_ she objected.

"And – what was it you decided? Oh, yes. Belle _didn't matter_. There was nothing she could do to stop it. It wasn't as if _your staff_ would help her file a complaint – just like they won't help_ you_ right now.

"It wouldn't have hurt her!" Mandy said. "Nick – Dr. Rush – he wouldn't have hurt her. If she'd been there, if Nick had wanted _her_, you think she'd have objected? Maybe that's what she needs, a good la-"

He slapped her across the face, his eyes burning.

_What was I saying?_ Mandy thought. It was as if, for a moment, she'd forgotten how Nick was around Belle these days, as if –

_As if I were saying what I'd thought then. Before I lost him._

But, the man who wasn't Nick was standing over her. She could _feel_ the fury radiating off of him, murderous and burning.

"Do you know why you aren't dead?" he whispered. "Why I haven't killed you – or done things to make you wish I had? Because, _she_ asked me not to. _She_ thinks I've hurt you enough.

"_She_ thought you needed an explanation – _deserved_ an explanation.

"So, let me explain this to you.

"Belle knows what it's like to be helpless and have people use her any way they want. One of them – a man who's dead – and he took a _very long_ time dying, I made sure of that – said almost the same thing you did when he hurt her. He laughed and said she should be _grateful_.

"I believe he may have . . . _altered_ his opinions. Before he died.

"And I tried to convince you. My bag of tricks is smaller than it used to be, but I did everything I could to drive it through that thick, stupid brain of yours that _Belle didn't want you using her._

"So, I stopped you the only way I could.

"Do you know what's really ironic, Doctor? If you had stopped it – if you had stopped your dear Nicholas – if you had _helped_ Belle in any way, I would be grateful. If you had protected her, there's _nothing_ I wouldn't do for you.

"But, that doesn't matter, now, does it? Belle was hurt once simply because she was helpless, because the people who hurt her could get away with it – Excuse me, because they _thought_ they could get away with it.

"And there was . . . a man who couldn't let that stand, a man who _died_ setting things right.

"I don't suppose you can understand that, can you? Someone caring enough about another human being to do that – especially when, in the end, it meant giving her up, letting her go on while he died.

"Except, he didn't die. A small piece of him stayed alive, protecting her, watching over her – and it wasn't going to stand by and watch while you hurt her, while you did the same thing that had been done to her before because – why? Oh, yes. Because, _Belle didn't matter._ Not as much as you.

"And, now, Nicholas Rush is gone. You spent the past two weeks throwing yourself at your victim's husband. And I've spent that same time reminding myself that Belle wouldn't want me to kill you.

"But, you really are the most disgusting thing I've ever seen.

"Oh, and understand this, too: I meant what I said. If you had helped her, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you – and you can't even begin to imagine some of the things I can do.

"But, you didn't.

"That's it. We're done."

And Mandy's room vanished. The dream ended.

She woke up back on _Destiny._


End file.
